


Written in the Tea Leaves

by minervamoon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Light Angst, M/M, Matchmaking, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22751044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minervamoon/pseuds/minervamoon
Summary: “Aziraphale!  He’s here!” exclaimed Anathema breathlessly, a giddy smile across her face.  She was practically bouncing.Aziraphale was still trying to get his heart back to a normal rhythm.  “My dear,” he said with a hand clutched over his heart.  “Who’s here?”“Him!” huffed Anathema emphatically.  “The one I saw in your cup!”****Aziraphale Eastley was content with his bookshop in the quiet town of Tadfield until his neighbors and friends, Tracy and Anathema, decide that Tracy's new tenant, one Dr. Anthony Crowley, is The One for him.  They might be right.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	Written in the Tea Leaves

The bell above the shop door jingled lightly, letting the shop owner know someone had come in. Aziraphale Eastley, said shop owner, could hear it from the back of his bookshop where he kept his private collection of rare books out of sight of the more modern front. Modern as in only the books that were on the shelves. The store itself looked more like a Victorian study than a shop. That was exactly why Aziraphale had bought the shopfront almost twenty years ago when he’d moved to the small town of Tadfield. The aesthetic of the shop had been exactly what he wanted. He liked an old fashioned look, as evidenced in the way he dressed, buttoned up in waistcoats and bowties. If he could have, Aziraphale would have filled his entire shop with antique books and puttered around in there happily, but he did need to pay the utilities. He did a good enough business keeping the best sellers in stock along with new and used books from other genres. The romance section alone was more than likely what was keeping him in business.

“Aziraphale? Where are you?” called the familiar voice of his neighbor and friend, Anathema Device.

“I’ll be there in just a moment,” called Aziraphale as he shelved one more book. He rounded a bookshelf and caught sight of her. She was crouched down scratching between the ears of a very pleased corgi. 

“It’s happening!” she said with a bright smile, her dark eyes alight behind her glasses.

“No!” said Aziraphale in hushed excitement, hand to his chest. “Really?” Anathema kept smiling and nodded.

“Thought I should make myself scarce. Mind if I hide here for a bit?”

“Oh, not at all, dear. Tea?”

“Sure. Got any more of that oolong?” asked Anathema, standing and brushing off her dark broom skirt. The dog looked expectantly up at her for a moment but then returned to his pillow tucked in the corner near Aziraphale’s desk.

“I believe I do. Flip the sign and I’ll start the kettle.”

If someone had told Aziraphale that after twelve years of almost complete solitude in Tadfield, he would be waylaid by the psychic opening a shop in the next storefront over who didn’t seem to be able to take a hint as to Aziraphale’s polite lack of interest in friendship, he wouldn’t have believed you. Becoming friends with “Madame Tracy” had been more out of self-preservation than anything else. The woman was a force of nature. One that had broken through Aziraphale’s barriers and made herself just at home in Aziraphale’s bookshop as she was in her own. A force of nature that had immediately taken Anathema under her wing (mixed metaphors aside) when the young woman had moved all the way from America to Tadfield to research her family history. Tracy had said Anathema had “the gift”; something Anathema had always thought but no one had supported her in back home. Aziraphale didn’t know if he believed in all that or not, but he did know that Anathema’s hunches over the two years he’d known her had more than often been proven right.

“I knew it!” said Anathema, pleased with herself as she sat at the tiny kitchen table in Aziraphale’s flat above his shop. “I knew he’d propose.” Case in point.

“No offense, dear, but everyone knew he’d propose sooner or later,” said Aziraphale as he turned on the electric kettle. He didn’t often use it, preferring the stovetop kettle for himself, but the electric one had been a gift, so he used it when the giver was watching. It was also programmable, something that had taken Aziraphale more than a little while to figure out, and was the only thing that might put it above the stovetop one. Aziraphale was getting used to the water being ready when he woke up in the morning.

“Yes, but I knew it was going to be today. As soon as I got to the shop, I knew the Sergeant was going to propose today.”

“Well, it’s about time.”

“I’ll say,” agreed Anathema. “How long have they been a thing again?”

“Oh, I don’t know. If you’re just talking dating, a few years. If you add in him finding excuses to talk to her...forever?” Aziraphale chuckled and went to pour the water into the waiting pot when the kettle beeped. He got out a tin of biscuits and took off the lid with a pop. Seconds later light tip-taps sounded as the corgi rushed into the flat. “Oh, Oscar,” chided Aziraphale affectionately. He broke off a bit of one of the biscuits and gave it to the dog.

“Next is your turn,” said Anathema with a smile. “I can feel it.” Her eyes were alight with happiness and just a hint of mischief.

Aziraphale flushed as he brought the teapot and tin to the table where cups, sugar, and cream were waiting already. He covered his embarrassment with a laugh. “Me? What about you?”

Anathema shook her head. “Nope, definitely you first.”

“Are you sure? You always said you couldn’t tell your own future very well.”

“And I thought you didn’t believe?”

“I’m humoring you. And if we’re being frank, you’re likely to hear wedding bells long before me.”

“Says who?”

“Anathema, dear. You are a gorgeous twenty-two-year-old and I am a pudgy, forty-three-year-old recluse, and probably the only gay man in this town.”

Anathema frowned at him as he poured the tea. They sat and drank in silence for several minutes before she spoke again. “Give me your cup,” she said, holding out her hand.

Aziraphale bit back a sigh, wishing he’d used teabags. He preferred loose-leaf, but it lead to moments like this far too often. Resigned that he wasn’t getting out of this, he passed over his teacup. Anathema took it, swirled the dredges around and upturned the cup on her own saucer for a minute before giving the cup a look over.

“I see-I see a tall, dark stranger coming into your life.”

“Oh! Now you’re just being silly,” scoffed Aziraphale, snatching up a biscuit in his annoyance. Oscar reared up, tongue lolling and brown eyes hopeful. Aziraphale gave him another morsel of biscuit.

“No. It’s really in here. I promise, as cliche as it sounds, that’s what the leaves are telling me.” Anathema tilted her head to the side, then turned the cup. “Also… a snake? Danger maybe?”

“So now he’s a tall, dark, dangerous stranger?” asked Aziraphale, raising a single eyebrow.

“They might not be connected.” She grinned. “Or maybe he rescues you from danger?” She sat the cup down. “Now I wish I’d brought my cards.”

Aziraphale grimaced and casually slipped his hands under the table before Anathema decided to try reading his palms. Oscar took this as an invitation to jump into his lap. Aziraphale coaxed him into settling and stroked the dog’s back.

Anathema got out her phone and took several pictures of the leaves at different angles. “I’ll see what Tracy thinks. Later.”

“I still can’t believe Sergeant Shadwell finally worked up the nerve,” said Aziraphale, steering the conversation away from his non-existent love life to safer waters, other people’s love lives. “I honestly believed Tracy would have to propose to him.”

“Well, she kind of did.”

Aziraphale was taken aback. “She did? When? And why am I just hearing about this now?”

Anathema grinned. “All she did was suggest that since they spent so much time “in each other’s company” that they should get a house together. You should have seen the Sergeant’s face! I think that’s what got the ball rolling.”

“Will they, do you think? I mean, get a house together?” asked Aziraphale, hopefully. Tracy lived in the flat above her shop and the establishments shared a wall. A wall that wasn’t very thick. 

Anathema bit her lip against a laugh, but that only made her snort it instead. “The earplugs not cutting it?” Aziraphale gave her a withering look. Anathema held up her hands. “Sorry. Sorry. Tracy’s got her heart set on a little place not far from where I live. I doubt the Sergeant will say no to that. But that means she’ll have to rent out the apartment-er-flat.”

Aziraphale hadn’t thought of that. “Couldn’t you rent it?” 

Anathema gave him a sympathetic smile. “I just signed my lease for another year. And, no offense, but I like the cottage. I just got the meditation garden how I like it.”

Aziraphale tried not to sulk, and he mostly succeeded. He did lean back in his chair and dig his fingers into Oscar’s fur. Tracy may have pushed her way into his life, but he’d come to accept and actually enjoy her as a neighbor. Now he was going to have to go through all that again? Well, maybe not. What were the chances of another “Tracy” moving into the flat next door? “But she’ll keep the shop open?”

“Oh, yeah. We aren’t closing. You’ll still have Tracy and me around as much as you can stand, and then some.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips. He wondered, not for the first time, what his family would think of his friends here in Tadfield. Aziraphale had come from a very religious background to the point that he and his siblings had even been named for angels. People like Tracy and Anathema would never have been appropriate friends in his family’s eyes. Of course, Aziraphale himself was far from appropriate. Thus his move to Tadfield. 

Thinking about his family made Aziraphale uncomfortable, so he pushed those thoughts away and kissed the top of Oscar’s head. Oscar reciprocated by licking Aziraphale’s chin. The conversation had fallen into a comfortable lull only to be disrupted by Anathema’s phone going off. She checked her messages and grinned. A second later she was on her feet and coming around to show Aziraphale the picture of a ring on what was obviously Tracy’s finger.

“Good man,” said Aziraphale with a smile. “Tracy loves moonstones.”

****

Three months, one wedding, and one relocation later, Aziraphale was dusting the shelves when Anathema came crashing through the front door, the bell jangling wildly enough that it made Aziraphale jump and Oscar yelp out of his doze.

“Aziraphale! He’s here!” exclaimed Anathema breathlessly, a giddy smile across her face. She was practically bouncing. 

Aziraphale was still trying to get his heart back to a normal rhythm. “My dear,” he said with a hand clutched over his heart. “Who’s here?”

“Him!” huffed Anathema emphatically. “The one I saw in your cup!”

Aziraphale did not roll his eyes, he merely turned them skyward for a moment to center himself. “Anathema, darling-”

“Don’t darling me. He is renting Tracy’s flat as we speak, he’s dressed head to toe in black, handsome as sin, and,” Anathema paused for dramatic effect, “he’s a doctor!”

“Wait. Are you saying that he was just introduced and you ran over here right after?” asked Aziraphale much to Anathema’s obvious annoyance.

“Tracy’s showing him the flat, he didn’t even notice. Come on!” said Anathema, motioning to the door.

“No thank you, dear,” said Aziraphale, turning back to the shelves.

“Aziraphale, I’m telling you, this is the guy from the cup. You gotta come meet him.”

“What about the snake?” Aziraphale couldn’t help but tease. 

“Must not have been connected,” said Anathema in an annoyed rush. She pointed to the door insistently. Aziraphale stayed where he was.

“If he does rent the flat then I’m sure I’ll meet him soon enough. No reason to go rushing over there right this second.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious? I wasn’t exaggerating about how hot he is.” Anathema sounded so disappointed it almost broke Aziraphale’s will. And, to be truthful, he was just a tiny bit curious. But there was no reason to think he’d even be interested in him.

“I’d rather not have you throw me at him on his first day in town, thank you very much,” said Aziraphale with a gentle but chiding tone.

Anathema huffed but then sighed. “Fine. Have it your way. But this guy is the one for you, I feel it.”

“Then there’s no rush. Now, shouldn’t you be getting back to the shop?”

“This isn’t over,” said Anathema as she put her hand on the doorknob.

“Of course not, dear.” Oscar,” called Aziraphale. The dog in question had trotted over to Anathema for attention but dutifully made his way to Aziraphale’s side. 

Anathema turned towards the door, only to grin and open it wide for Tracy and a man. Aziraphale was frozen in place. Anathema had not been exaggerating. A shock of red hair, sharp cheekbones, strong chin, and soft-looking lips. Even the dark sunglasses didn’t detract from his handsome features. He was tall and lean, not an inch of him was spare. Aziraphale self-consciously pulled his coat around himself.

“Oh, there you are, Anathema. Told Aziraphale the good news already?” asked Tracy, her red lips grinning widely. He reached back and pulled on the man’s arm. “Aziraphale, I’d like you to meet _Doctor_ Anthony Crowley. He’s going to be taking the flat above the shop. Dr. Crowley, this is your new neighbor, Aziraphale.” She was practically beaming now. Aziraphale bit back a groan. They were both still in on it.

“Just Crowley is fine,” said the man, hand out in offering. The fingers of the hand were long and elegant looking, just like the rest of him. Aziraphale was ridiculously glad he’d taken the time to give his nails some much-needed maintenance that morning as he shook the man’s hand. Those long fingers wrapped around his, coiled strength under soft, warm skin. Aziraphale swallowed against his dry throat.

“Hello, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, unable to resist trying out the man’s name. Crowley’s polite grin widened just a fraction. Aziraphale felt himself returning the smile before realizing he was still holding onto Crowley. He let go quickly.

“We thought we should get the introductions out of the way,” said Tracy with a twinkle in her eye. Aziraphale could feel his cheeks starting to burn. It had to be obvious to the other man what was going on. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he should apologize or just die of embarrassment right then and there. Crowley seemed to be taking it all in good humor, thankfully. 

Oscar chose that moment to come over and sniff the stranger wherever his nose could reach. “Oh, hey there,” said Crowley. He reached down tentatively. Crowley’s glasses had slid down his nose and he looked over them questioningly while leaning over. Gold was the only way to describe them. Breathtakingly gold. Aziraphale had never seen eyes that color. They had to be contacts, didn’t they? Crowley pushed the glasses back into place and the spell was abruptly broken.

“Oh, that’s Oscar,” said Aziraphale, realizing he was supposed to answer Crowley’s unspoken question. “Don’t worry, he’s friendly. Wouldn’t do to have him in the shop if he wasn’t.” Aziraphale forced his teeth together to stop his babbling. Crowley merely grinned and gave the dog a gentle pat. Tracy was giving Aziraphale a grin that practically shouted _and he likes dogs!_

“Nice place you’ve got here,” said Crowley as he stood to his full height again. 

Just then the door opened in a rush of children. They brushed around the adults like they were trees in their path. A blond-headed boy stopped to pet Oscar while the others made their ways to their preferred sections.

“Hello, Mr. Eastley,” said the blond boy as he rubbed Oscar vigorously with both hands.

“Hello, Adam. Pepper, that comic you wanted has arrived. It’s on my desk,” called Aziraphale. “Brian, let me see your hands before you touch anything.”

“Looks like you’re busy,” said Crowley with an amused chuckle as Aziraphale sent Brian to wash his hands.

“Who’re you?” asked Adam. His voice wasn’t loud, but his question still caused the other three to stop what they were doing and look to the stranger.

“This is Dr. Crowley, he’s renting Mrs. Shadwell’s flat,” said Aziraphale. 

“Oh. That’s all right then. Can I take Oscar for a walk, Mr. Eastley?”

“Yes, you _may_. I’m sure he’d like that. You know where his collar and lead are.” Adam called Oscar to follow him to the desk where Pepper had found the aforementioned comic. Soon all four of the children (Brian abandoning his hand-washing mission) were out the back door with Oscar.

“You’re good with kids,” said Crowley warmly, a light smile on his face.

“Those four perhaps,” said Aziraphale. “Of course, they’re only here for Oscar.”

“Anathema and I should get back to the shop,” said Tracy. “I left the Sergeant manning the till, poor man.”

“It was-” started Crowley only to be cut off by Tracy.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to leave,” she said with a smile. “Take your time. You should make a few friends. We’ll finish up about the flat later.” With that, she and Anathema practically vanished out the door. 

Aziraphale, flushing with renewed embarrassment, fidgeted and moved to the counter, making a show of checking a small, leather-bound ledger there.

“Well, that was a thing,” chuckled Crowley, joining him on the other side of the counter and leaning back against it on his elbows. His whole posture exuded easy confidence, something Aziraphale had never known. He found himself slightly jealous of the other man. Of course, if he looked like Crowley he wouldn’t have a problem with confidence.

“I do apologize for their...enthusiasm,” said Aziraphale. “They don’t mean any harm.”

“I figured Mrs. Shadwell would be a bit odd when I asked about the flat, but that was-Do they usually throw men at you?” asked Crowley over his shoulder.

Aziraphale gave a flustered chuckle and looked back down at the ledger. “No. I’m sorry to say they singled you out.” Should he tell him? Well, he should know what he’s getting himself into renting from Tracy. “You were in my teacup.”

“Wot?” laughed Crowley, turning to face Aziraphale fully, still leaning against the counter. An amused grin curled his lips and set off laugh lines that warmed his entire face, what Aziraphale could see of it anyway.

Aziraphale gave another chuckle. “Anathema believes she saw a “tall, dark stranger” in my tea leaves.” Aziraphale wiggled the fingers of one hand in an airy, “magic” way. 

Crowley gave an exaggerated, “Oh,” of understanding. “A bit vague, don’t you think?” he asked, his nose crinkling slightly. Aziraphale felt his heart skip at the sight. Oh, this wouldn’t do at all. He was practically drooling over a man that, for all he knew, was just humoring his future landlady by talking to him.

“So, what brings you to Tadfield, Dr. Crowley?” asked Aziraphale. He tried to use the prefix as a way of putting polite distance between them, but it came out sounding just a touch flirtatious to his ears. He cleared his throat. “Opening a practice?”

“Not that kind of doctor,” said Crowley. “I have a doctorate in Astronomy. I’m going to be teaching at Tadfield Comprehensive this fall.”

“Oh. But couldn’t you be teaching in some university somewhere?” Aziraphale knew that had been the wrong thing to ask when Crowley stood up from the counter, physically recoiling from the question. 

“Needed a change of pace,” muttered Crowley, scratching at his right sideburn. “I should go finalize the paperwork with Mrs. Shadwell.” Stop. Don’t go there. Aziraphale could read the signs clearly, he’d used them himself more than enough times in his life.

“Hasn’t she told you to call her Tracy yet?” asked Aziraphale, forcing a lightness into his voice to try and smooth things over.

Crowley hesitated, then took the olive branch. “She did, but the glare her husband gave me said otherwise. Military?”

“Former, and recently retired from the local police force.”

“That would explain the background check.”

“Oh dear. Did he?”

Crowley, hands now in the pockets of his tight jeans, gave a shrug. “Can’t blame him. Some stranger living over his wife’s shop? I’d do the same if it were me.”

“Oh, I’m glad you see it that way. And don’t think anything of their,” Aziraphale did the finger wiggle again. “It’s all in good fun, really.”

“If I was bothered by it, I wouldn’t be renting the flat. I’ll see you around, Aziraphale,” called Crowley as he meandered to the door. “Hey, isn’t that the name of an angel?”

“Yes, actually. Not many people know that. It’s not one of the big names.”

Crowley opened the door. The bell jingling almost covered up him saying, “Suits you,” softly. Aziraphale felt himself blush as Crowley waved goodbye and left. He stood behind the counter for several stunned and flustered seconds before coming to himself and going out back to check on Oscar and the children.


End file.
